


who cares

by Anonymous



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Genderbending, hajime chan gets her pussy ate, nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 02:43:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/





	who cares

Hajime is hanging up laundry on the roof to dry, humming to herself, when Mitsuru calls her name. “Hajime-chan! Dash~!” She turns her head just in time for Mitsuru to collide with her, throwing her arms around Hajime and sending them staggering backwards.

“Waa- Mitsuru-chan!” She wheezes, “Please don’t tackle people like that! We could’ve gotten hurt!” Mitsuru grins at her scolding, and hugs Hajime closer, pressing their chests together. “Sorry, sorry! I’m excited to see you!” She exclaims, and Hajime smiles at that. “We just saw each other this morning?”

Mitsuru twirls Hajime around so her back is against Mitsuru’s front, and Hajime gasps in surprise, leaning forwards to pull away, but Mitsuru stops her by wrapping her arms around the other girls sides. “Ne, Hajime-chan, can we do it?”

Hajime flushes deep, eyes growing wide, and she shakes her head as she struggles in Mitsuru’s grip. “What?! Mitsuru-chan, we’re at school! Y-you can just-!” Her sentence is cut off by Mitsuru sliding a hand under her skirt, and she squeals in surprise. “Mitsuru-chan!” Hajime cries out, and attempts to pull the taller girls hand off her thigh, but Mitsuru has the upper hand, and doubles her weight over on top of Hajime. “But I really want to! So please? Pretty please-! I’ll be quiet!”

Mitsuru’s breath ghosts over the shell of Hajime’s ear, and she feels her face grow warmer. Mitsuru doesn’t wait for an answer before pressing a kiss to Hajime’s neck, sliding her hand up the shorter girls thigh slowly. Mitsuru rakes her nails up and down Hajime’s soft skin, and she jumps from the touch, her arousal rising. Hajime mentally curses herself for being so easy. “A-ah, no, we shouldn’t-!” Hajime protests, and strains her neck away from the brown haired girls ministrations. “No one will see,” Mitsuru whispers. “The sheets will hide us really good!”

“Uu... that’s not a good enough r-reason to-!” Hajime interrupts her own sentence with a moan, and clamps a hand over her own mouth. 

Mitsuru has moved to stroking her over her panties, one finger messily rubbing against her through the damp fabric, and she feels another whine bubble up in her throat. Mitsuru hums from behind her, and loosens her grip, only to slide a hand up Hajime’s front and clumsily start working open the buttons on her blazer. 

Hajime involuntarily grinds back down into the other girls touch, eyes shut tight and body wound up with excitement and arousal. Mitsuru pulls her blazer away and makes quick work of her button up shirt, all the while still getting her worked up, rubbing her finger in smooth motions over Hajime’s clit through her panties. Hajime tries to protest one more time. “Mitsuru-chan, please! Someone could see us!” She says, attempting to gather some strength to pull away from the girl finally, but her effort goes to waste once Mitsuru finally gets her shirt open, and slips a hand into her bra.

This time, she lets a moan slip, head tilting back as a soft, needy noise escapes her lips. Mitsuru works at her chest, running her thumb over Hajime’s nipple and kissing up the side of her neck. “Hajime-chan, your chest is so sensitive!” She teases, pinching her nipple between her thumb and forefinger just to feel the smaller girl jerk and squirm. “M-mitsuru-chan!” She whines, and Mitsuru only responds by pulling her hand out from under Hajime’s skirt to grab her chin and tilt her head back to sloppily kiss her. Mitsuru’s tongue slips between Hajime’s lips, and Mitsuru moans into the kiss. 

It’s heated and quick, messy and graceless. The way she kisses Hajime is so very distinctly Mitsuru, and she finds herself succumbing to the taller girl, arching into her touch, and pressing harder into the kiss. When Mitsuru pulls away, panting heavy and face flushed pink, Hajime feels embarrassed just knowing she probably looks even more undone in comparison. A breeze blows by, rustling the hanging sheets on the clothes line. Hajime tenses, glancing around for anyone who might accidentally see them, but Mitsuru speaks, stealing her attention away.

“Let me eat you out! Please, Hajime-chan?” Mitsuru asks plainly between kisses, and Hajime has a hard time resisting burying her face into her hands in shame. “M-Mitsuru-chan, we should really stop this now,” she squeaks out. “And please don’t say something so lewd like it’s normal!” She feels her body running hot, like she’s got a fever burning away at her, but Mitsuru just kisses her again, and grabs her by the waist. “So... yes?” She asks. Hajime feels the urge to groan at her girlfriends insistence. “...okay. Yes.” Hajime gives in. Mitsuru cheers, guiding her backwards until her legs bump something on the ground, and Mitsuru pushes her into a bin of clean laundry she’d been folding. 

“Ah-! Mitsuru-chan, the laundry will get dirty again!” She protests uselessly, sitting up to remove herself. Mitsuru laughs, and tugs her hips forward, causing Hajime to fall onto her back. Mitsuru kneels in front of the basket, and more importantly, between Hajime’s legs. “You can just wash it again later, right?” She’s got Hajime’s legs draped over her shoulders as she peels Hajime’s panties from her body. “Hajime-chan! Your underwear is so cute!” She speaks nonchalantly, as if they’re not soaked in Hajime’s arousal, as if Mitsuru’s not about to use her mouth to-

Hajime throws her arms over her face and groans, Mitsuru is hard to keep up with in every aspect of life, including moments like these. 

“Thanks for this, Hajime-chan! Try to stay quiet!” Mitsuru laughs, plunges downwards to lick a strip up Hajime’s folds. Hajime immediately fails at staying quiet, and breaths out a high moan, hips bucking upwards at the feeling. She can feels herself leaking, and the embarrassment is almost too much to bear. She wonders if all the embarrassment Mitsuru should be feeling gets transferred to her every time they do this, because with the way she enthusiastically licks at Hajime, she’s sure there’s no way she could be feeling any shame at all with how composed she acts.

Hajime‘s pulled out of her thoughts at the feeling of Mitsuru pressing her tongue against her clit, and she keens, high and needy before remembering she’s still at school, and anyone could hear them and come looking. She holds her hands to her mouth and desperately tries to keep any noises at bay, but Mitsuru tries her hardest at everything she does, and it’s putting Hajime at a disadvantage.

She licks at her folds, flicking her tongue quick and messy, sucks at Hajime’s clit like she’s indulging herself, and brings a finger up to slip inside Hajime slowly, pumping it in gently before switching to a rougher, more rapid movement when she decides Hajime can take it. Hajime is just barely holding back from shaking at the feeling, her body too sensitive and alight with pleasure for her to calm down, and she pulls one hand away from her face to tangle it in Mitsuru’s short hair. She tugs when Mitsuru slips another finger inside her and curls them upwards, grinding against Mitsuru’s hand and lips with a muffled moan. She’s sweaty, half undressed and between her legs are sticky with a mixture her own wetness and Mitsuru’s spit, but she feels so good, she can only urge Mitsuru further.

“A-ah, there! G-good girl, Mitsuru-chan...” she sighs, the praise coming easily, and Mitsuru moans against her. When Hajime tilts her head to the side, she can see Mitsuru’s hand tucked between her thighs, her skirt drawn up around her waist. Mitsuru’s body is so nice to look at, to feel. Maybe she‘d be shy to admit it, but she loves to run her hands over the girls arms and thighs, her slowly forming abs. Though their unit thrives off their cuteness, Hajime enjoyed the boyish side of Mitsuru more and more every day. Regardless of her femininity, her chest was undeniably larger than any of the other girls in their unit, and Hajime could always appreciate that, too.

Mitsuru locks eyes with Hajime between her legs, and she gasps. Mitsuru’s eyes are dark and swirling with arousal, but her gaze is searching, seeking something, Hajime isn’t sure what though, so she tugs on Mitsuru’s hair and guides her gently to where it feels the best. When Mitsuru presses her thumb against Hajime’s clit, she closes her eyes again and leans her head back, barely stifling a moan.

She’s nearing her climax, Mitsuru’s messy affection working Hajime up higher and higher, winding her core with heat and filling her with a pleasant thrumming. She can barely stop her moans and whines from tumbling out. “Mitsuru-chan I’m- I’m close.” She groans, and Mitsuru just presses harder, tongue diving deep within her, accompanied by her fingers thrusting faster, rougher.

Mitsuru curls her fingers upwards and rubs insistently at that spot that makes her muscles simultaneously tighten and relax, and Hajime gasps hard when she comes, orgasm wracking through her body, leaving her shaking and twitching as Mitsuru works her through it. When she comes down, limbs feeling like jello, Mitsuru is licking at her thighs, and Hajime pets her head affectionately as she pants, chest heaving from her orgasm.

“A-ah, I’m sensitive, Mitsuru-chan...” Hajime’s Head lolls to the side, her eyelids heavy. Mitsuru crawls over her, and presses their lips together quickly. Hajime tastes herself on Mitsuru’s lips, and if she wasn’t so tired she’s sure she would tackle Mitsuru to the ground to chase the feeling. “Did I do a good job, Hajime-chan? Did it feel good?” She presses forwards, bodies close enough that Hajime can feel the head radiating off Mitsuru’s body. The closeness is welcomed as she basks in the feeling of warmth. She pats the taller girls head, and give her best smile through the sleepiness starting to set in. “Yes, you were a good girl to me, Mitsuru-chan, you did such a good job.” She praises airily, and Mitsuru leans into the touch, smiling widely.

Hajime glances downwards, to where Mitsuru’s skirt is still rucked up over her hips and her panties are visibly wet. “I- um, Mitsuru-chan, do you-“

“Are you two done?”

Hajime squeals in surprise, and flails to put herself back together. She tumbles out of the laundry basket with Mitsuru, lading on top of her and spilling clean sheets and clothing all around them. When she peaks back up at the owner of the voice, she meets Tomoya’s eye, the other girl looking incredibly exasperated. Mitsuru waves her hands wildly from where she’s laying under Hajime. “Tomo-chan! Hello!” She wheezes, and Hajime squeaks in embarrassment before scrambling off Mitsuru, quickly tugging her skirt down and shoving her bra back in place.

Tomoya seems to take in their appearances, and sighs, pushing past a hanging sheet to crouch down in front of Hajime, reaching out to adjust her shirt, buttoning it back up, before she speaks. “Mitsuru, can you try not to jump Hajime at school?” She sighs, and Mitsuru laughs and sticks her tongue out at the girl. “Hajime-chan said it was fine! And I was quiet so no one noticed!”

Tomoya glares at her, before running her fingers through Hajime’s hair to untangle it. “Okay, but I heard Hajime.” She says, and Hajime’s embarrassment flares up again. “Don’t be so reckless at school! Nee-chan was looking for you, what if it had been her that found you like this?” Tomoya scolds, and both Mitsuru and Hajime feel the blood drain their faces at the thought. Tomoya looks at their expressions and sighs again. “Exactly what I mean! Also Mitsuru... please fix your skirt. I can still see your underwear.”

Mitsuru laughs at that, standing and tugging her skirt back down. She stretches her arms over her head, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thanks Hajime-chan! I’ll go find Nee-chan now, Tomo-chan!” She’s gone as quick as she came, before either of them can respond, and Hajime flops forward into Tomoya’s hold. “Ah... Tomoya-chan... Mitsuru-chan is-“ Tomoya pats her thigh sympathetically. “Yeah. I know, she’s an idiot.”


End file.
